


Sparks

by RenaRoo



Category: Static Shock
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not like anyone else he's ever met, wearing capes or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Effar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effar/gifts).



> Prompt: ( thecoattale ) I WANT BLACK ANGEL/STATIC this is not a batfam fic but being your best friend I was thinking you could forgive me of that hahaha.
> 
> A/N: See, I can’t refuse you ever. And I really need to write more with Static and with our OC’s, so how can I refuse this? AND SO CLOSE TO YOUR BIRTHDAY TOO
> 
> Sorry it sucks, though. That was unavoidable lol

He's minimally impressed with her, he'll admit.

Minimally, because he tries to not be completely overwhelmed with impressiveness toward someone who -- no matter how many Parademons they're responsible for taking out -- wasn't really able to stop the destruction of half a block on Paris Island.

Static isn't really in the mood for sticking up for someone he barely knows against the same citizens that look up to him for a lot of other reasons. _And_ he's certain that the Blood Syndicate isn't happy with him still and this _is_ their turf.

Still. He's never seen many Egyptian goddesses before.

She looks at him, tight frown. The light bends around her, contorting to create the shadows that she commands. Currently they scatter across her body like tattoos, emerging to create the bat-like wings keeping her in air.

"Thanks for the assist," he finally manages, locked with her green eyes. "You with the Titans or something? They gonna help us out here?"

Crossing her arms, two cats easily leaping from nearby debris to her shoulders, the woman cocks her head to the side. "I don't really do teams."

"Cool," Static huffs. "But I'm going to need help with clean up. You _did_ set half a block on fire." He narrows his eyes, putting on as serious of an expression as he can manage. "And fighting monsters is one thing, but these people? They need help with the everyday stuff. They didn't need you using their homes and businesses as collateral damage."

One of the cats hisses as the woman narrows her eyes. "Excuse me for keeping them from being enslaved by a transdimensional monarch," she snaps.

"It doesn't make you less responsible for what went down here," he continues before, a little weakly, adding, "Miss."

She looks at him before slowly lowering to the ground. She reaches for something in the air, the shadows that had been her horns, wings, and tails, become a broom. One cat leaps down to sit by and watch.

Breathing a sigh of relief that there doesn't seem to be much punishment in store for talking down a goddess, Static begins setting the light posts upright. He tries to not make it obvious that his eyes are on her.

With a dark smirk, she catches him every time.

"Do they have a name for you?" he asks once they start lifting bricks together -- her with incredible ease and finesse. "I think I've seen you in the background of the news a few times."

"I've got a name," she says smugly as she looks and smirks at him. "My sister's the one the news calls Mirage. Me? They've taken to calling me a Black Angel."

He looks at her, she raises a brow.

"On the nose?" he laughs.

"A little," she chuckles. "But hey. Black Canary. Black Lightning. Black Lanterns -- guess I'm not in too bad of company."

They continue laughing as they repair the street.

*

He does a double take at school because it's not as if he is _expecting_ to see a recognizable superhero in civilian duds at school. And she's just sort of there, unceremoniously, standing in the hallway.

Virgil is so distracted that Rich gets him to agree to something that _surely_ will kick his butt in the morning. But all he can notice is that Black Angel is at the end of the hallway.

Her arms are crossed and she's tapping her foot impatiently -- her dark skin seems to glow with a radiance that everyone else in the hallway is somehow ignoring.

Not that he's a freak or anything, but Virg looked up everything he could -- made some calls to other superheroes he's met -- and has learned that she's a hybrid of sorts.

Daughter of an Egyptian demigoddess and a Greek Titan? Seems a bit out of his league.

Idly, he wonders if she's come to his high school because she's looked up dirt on him, too, but then he sees her attention focus on another girl. They definitely _look_ like sisters.

The younger girl bounces over to Black Angel and they whisper as they hug. Black Angel rubs her sister's curly head and they make their way out of the building.

Virgil isn't sure if it's purely his imagination or not when Black Angel looks at him and raises her brow during their march off the campus premise.

*

It's cold tonight, patrol was long, and Black Angel and Mirage have been camped out in Dakota for nearly three months now. That's longer than reported sightings of them _anywhere_ have lasted.

Static's ready to turn in for the night, recheck that physics assignment he blew through before he snuck out, but he stops for hot chocolate and makes his way to a rooftop instead. He looks at the hooded heroine on the other side.

Steam rolls off of her shoulders, apparently the side effect of her more _fiery_ powers.

She looks over her shoulder at him and smirks. "I didn't get your city dirty this time around."

He laughs and walks over to her. "No, you didn't."

When he plops down beside her, she doesn't move away. He offers her a cup. She accepts.

They sip together.

"Think you've got roots here?" Static asks after a while. "Pretty soon, some of those Static and Icon t-shirts are going to start saying Black Angel and Mirage. It helps that your costumes are already hoodies anyway. Those'll catch on like wildfire."

Black Angel nods, quiet, stirs her cup. "It's possible," she says with a sigh.

"Just not likely," Static finishes.

She looks to him, a sad smile on her lips. "I like it here. But my sister and I… we can't stay anywhere too long. Not in our nature first off. Alleycats that we are. Curse of being granddaughters of Bastet." She looks to her feet. "Can't really let yourself become a house cat."

He frowns. "Sounds rough. But you've stayed here for a while. You must see _something_ in Dakota you like."

The woman laughs, tucks her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. A few things," she admits, smiles a bit more genuinely. "I also like being somewhere, for once, where my sister and I aren't the _odd man out_ superheroes. Where the things that are weird about us to the public isn't that we don't _look the part."_

Static huffs. He knows the feeling. It's what drove him away from San Francisco and the Titans all in one foul swoop.

"And the heroes themselves aren't too bad to look at," Black Angel snarks as she looks at him slyly.

He feels his face light up. _"Oh."_

*

She's been out of Dakota for a few weeks when he happens to deflect a bullet for her in Chicago.

Black Angel turns and pouts at him. Like he somehow mystically followed her to her next location rather than happening to be on a school trip.

"No, I absolutely _refuse_ for our first re-encounter to be you rescuing my butt," she snaps, almost ferociously.

"What are you mad about?" Static asks, using the monorail's track to knock the sharpshooters out of the way. "I'm not the one who flirted and bolted!"

"You flirted with him?" the younger costumed hero -- Mirage -- says by Black Angel's side. Her face lights up. "This is wonderful!"

"I didn't!" Black Angel growls at her sister before glaring at Static. "I _did not_ and I don't take kindly to liars."

"Of course you didn't," Virgil huffs back.

She opens her mouth to say something only for her eyes to widen. Black Angel tackles Static to the ground just as a stray bullet nearly clips him. They stay there for a moment.

"It was sort of flirting," Static reiterates.

 _"Maybe,"_ she concedes.

*

"I'm not the most cuddly person on the planet," she's saying as they look over Chicago. They're sitting on the edge of the street sign Virgil has been using for transportation during their minor crisis. She looks over at him with a smirk. "And you can start calling me Alex."

He cocks his head to the side. "Alex? Really?"

"Alexandria," she huffs, crossing her arms. "Like the lost city. Spoilers! Not that hard to find as it turns out."

"Virgil," he returns, intwining his fingers with hers. She doesn't pull back. "And I can cuddle enough for both of us."

"Joy," she jokes, but her laugh is soft and real. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship, Virgil."

"I think," he says as he brushes shoulders with her, "it already started."


End file.
